6.10.10

These halls are haunting,
my soul is shaking,
my thoughts are bothered,
I’m no longer myself.

What have I turned into?
I don’t recognize my reflection.
These halls have changed me,
I don’t think it’s for the better.

It’s not just these halls,
but the people inside them,
and the desks,
and doors,
and lockers,
and books,
and pencils,
and pens,
and erasers,
and air.

It’s the idea of these halls,
the routine days,
overrated drama,
peer pressure,
anorexia,
and self-identification.

These halls have changed me,
but in the end they will have helped me.

I’m finding myself,
and these halls will help me.

4.10.10

Pages turned,
moments illuminated,
but the book mark is placed.

Hold onto the ledge,
and never look down.

Reopen the book,
flip with ease,
illustrate the words,
don’t let the depictions cease.

Treasure the last word,
adore the epilogue,
and reminisce when
you finally close the book.

Let the story
enter your mind oft,
but do not let it crowd,
and if it grows on you,
read it again,
and again,
and again.